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Luca and Fabrizio were the first two of ten people to show up without having RSVPed. Despite nearly doubling the size of the party, the caterer and her sta scrambled to meet the demands. To avoid the event looking like the chaos it became, Carmela and Rhiannon were constantly split apart, working di erent ends of the room as they took over waitsta duties while the actual servers morphed into sous-chefs.
By the time the night was over, everyone had been given a personal tour and plied with delicious food and wonderful music. Early onset nerves had led Rhiannon to chug two Mojitos in a row, but as soon as the work started, she hadn’t so much as inhaled another appetizer.
Once she was alone, and the house clean and empty, Rhiannon pulled o her new heels and dipped her red and swollen feet in the pool. The cool water felt amazing as she rested on her elbows and stared up at a moonless sky.
Stars weren’t exactly shining, but it was pretty enough to help her bask in the glow of a completed mission. With nothing but the sound of crickets chirping and jets circulating the water in the pool, she finally relaxed.
“There you are,” Carmela said, her husky voice ripping through the serenity.
Rhiannon’s head snapped in her direction. Still looking as fresh as she had when she arrived, Carmela emerged from the back patio and out to the pool.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she replied as she sauntered over to her, heels in hand, the only sign that she might be as exhausted as Rhiannon looked.
“You didn’t. I just didn’t know you were still here.”
Rhiannon sat up as Carmela approached but didn’t take her feet out of the water.
“I had to run to the ATM. I didn’t bring enough cash to tip the caterer for going above and beyond,” she said as she lowered herself next to Rhiannon, moving carefully so as not to damage her dress.
Much to Rhiannon’s surprise, instead of criticizing her for sticking her feet in someone else’s pool, Carmela slipped her feet in too. Her smooth, muscular legs hanging in the water made it hard to think, but she stopped herself from ogling the thighs exposed by the hiked-up dress.
“I already tipped them,” she said, dragging her attention to Carmela’s face and trying not to think about her proximity.
Carmela’s smile was slow and her eyes focused. “I know.
They told me. I gave them some more. I’ve never had caterers run out to the supermarket in the middle of a party to keep it going,” she said, hoarse from all the loud talking she’d done.
“Did anybody talk to you about an o er?” Rhiannon asked, desperate to keep the conversation going.
“Not yet, but I won’t be surprised if we get a few bites. I hate to admit it,” she said with a throaty laugh that turned Rhiannon’s mouth dry, “but this was a really good idea. I got some outstanding feedback, and I think Luca was trying to see how much lower than asking Yeardsley is willing to go.
Maybe he’ll take on some debt after all.”
Disappointment twisted in her guts. “Damn. I really thought someone would make an o er tonight.”
“Hey,” Carmela said, placing her warm hand on Rhiannon’s forearm. “Enjoy this moment of success.
Something is going to come from it. When people see that other people want things, it makes them want it more. Trust me, it was obvious more than a couple were seriously interested.”
Rhiannon looked down at the hand that lingered on her arm before Carmela pulled it away. “Does this mean you’re not avoiding me anymore?”
Carmela laughed, but with a fading voice it was nearly inaudible. “I’m not avoiding you.”
“Technically true, since you’re not treating me like I’m radioactive right this second,” she agreed. “But it feels like you’ve been actively going out of your way not to run into me. You haven’t even been in the o ce since we went to the caterer.”
Carmela’s easy, open expression didn’t falter. “That’s not true. I’ve been there a bunch of times. . . it’s just been a little later than usual.”
Rhiannon raised the eyebrows her mom plucked and painted for her. “Oh really? I haven’t left before eight a single night this week. What time are you going in?”
Carmela shrugged. “Later.”
Glaring at the bold-faced lie, Rhiannon couldn’t help but push. “So you’re not acting super weird because of what happened at the caterer’s place?”
Carmela laughed again, too carefree for Rhiannon’s liking. “I think you’re imagining things. You’ve put a lot of pressure on yourself. Are you eating and sleeping enough?
Staying hydrated? Dehydration can really mess with your head.”
“You’re really going to play this game, Carm?”
